When I Look To The Sky
by Wildfire2345
Summary: LJ songfic set to Train's When I Look to the Sky. Not too bad. Rated for mild violence and language. R&R!


**A.N.** – This is my second songfic ever, so go easy on me. Advice is appreciated, though. There's a lot of fluff toward the end of this, just to warn you.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter any more than I own this song, "When I look to the Sky," which belongs to Train.

**When I Look to the Sky**

**When it rains it pours and opens doors**

**And floods the floors we thought would keep us safe and dry**

**And in the midst of sailing ships we sink our lips into the ones we love**

**That have to say goodbye**

There was blood . . . blood everywhere. A petite redheaded frantically dodged the furious, careless curses as she made her way through the sea of limp bodies and broken souls to where she could see him, dueling a masked stranger with feverish energy.

His face was in prefect view; his eyes were clouded with emotion and his countenance twisted with concentration while he dove to the side to avoid a jet of orange light issuing from his opponent's wand. His robes were stained with red and covered in a layer of grime that could also be found on his light skin.

"Ah, _mudblood_," hissed a cold, amused voices in her ear. Lily Evans turned and narrowed her eyes at the glowing black orbs, the only feature of the woman in the robe that Lily could see due to the mask. She recognized the malignancy and hatred in those eyes almost immediately.

"Narcissa," spat Lily, hating the way the word tasted on her lips. "Well, I see you've finally realized that you'd be doing the world a favor by covering up your face. The mask is a wonderful touch, I should say. Voldemort should be quite th aspiring fashion designer, if he came up with that outfit."

Narcissa Black, though it was rumored her surname had changed by marrying a Malfoy, gave a sharp intake of breath. "How _dare _– how dare you speak the Dark Lord's name, you pathetic mudblood?! His name is not worthy enough for you! Oh, you will be punished."

"Punished? Ooh, I'm just shaking in my socks, I'm so frightened." Lily rolled her eyes contemptuously, discreetly tightening her grip on her wand. "Who, might I ask, is going to punish me? It rather looks like Voldy is too busy to show up and help his supporters tonight." Lily opened her arms, indicating Lord Voldemort's absence in the battle.

Nacissa drew her wand, sneering, she pointed it directly at the center of Lily's forehead. "You would be surprised how many curses I know that you have never heard of in your life, mudblood, and you probably won't live to remember them. The Dark Lord, he is very strict about teaching us the _right _ways to duel, the kinds that will earn us the fear of every filthy half-breed the world around."

Lily carefully weighed her options, altogether too aware of the tortured screams sounding around her – many of the voices were ones she recognized as her dearest friends and companions. At least she hadn't heard him scream yet . . .

"Even your Auror training won't save you now, mudblood," said Narcissa quietly, her eyes lighting with a terrible enjoyment, "though I still can't believe the levels the Ministry has sunk, letting people like yourself to even consider the position of an Auror."

"People like myself?" repeated Lily. "Do you mean talented witches and wizards who know how to fight and can whip your sorry arses without the slightest effort?"

"That's a big boast coming from someone at the wrong end of an enemy wand," scoffed Narcissa. "Let's see just how _talented _you really are, mudblood . . ."

Narcissa drew back slightly, her weapon still held aloft and ready.

"_Crucio!_"

It was pain beyond anything else Lily had ever had to endure before, but she did not allow herself to scream. Biting her bottom lip so hard from the effort not to yell her pain that she drew blood, Lily simply squeezed her eyes shut and reveled in the misery; wishing, waiting, hoping for it to be over.

Suddenly, the pain was lifted and Lily's writhing form slowly calmed. She could hear Narcissa's footsteps growing louder in her ear, the Death Eater's putrid breath warming her ear as Narcissa knelt down and whispered, "Did you like that, mudblood?"

"I adored it," said Lily sarcastically, struggling to sit up. Narcissa pushed her back down on the floor with her foot.

"Now, see, I wasn't sure whether you'd found it enjoyable. Normally, a courteous victim would have at least screamed to pay respects to the caster for her incredible spell-work."

Lily glared at Narcissa. "The day I pay you a compliment," said Lily coldly, "is the day hell freezes over."

Narcissa rose. "Very well, then. If you'd rather do this the hard way . . . Harder for you, on any account . . ."

"_Crucio!_"

**And every word I didn't say that caught up in some busy day**

**And every dance on the kitchen floor we didn't have before**

**And every sunset that we'll miss I'll wrap them all up in a kiss**

**And pick you up in all of this when I sail away**

The harsh, unforgiving eyes of an unknown Death Eater peered eerily out through the man's mask. They looked familiar, but James Potter did not know them upon his first glance and had already knocked the man unconscious before he could get a better look.

The battle was going horribly. The Order of the Phoenix had been acting of a tip-off from one of Albus Dumbledore's spies, though it was rather obvious now that the information was faulty. The Death Eaters had been awaiting their arrival themselves, and their original "sneak-attack" plan had been shot.

James cursed his luck, moving out of the way of yet another dangerous stream of light with mounting adrenaline. The only time he felt truly alive – aside from while playing Quidditch – was while fighting. His girlfriend Lily was the complete opposite: the farther into a duel so got, the more fatigued she grew. She had never been one for violence.

Lily. He hastily scanned the crowd for the flash of fiery red hair that was sure to be Lily Evans's, but they were such a tangled mass that he could not have identified anyone in the fray.

"Hey! Potter!" James snapped back to attention to find Lucius Malfoy's eyes glaring back at him through the black mask telltale of a Death Eater.

"Malfoy," growled James.

"I must admit, I am fairly surprised to see you here," said Malfoy. "_Blood traitors _do not usually risk showing their faces to those whom they have betrayed."

James sneered. "You'd know all about betrayal, wouldn't you, Malfoy? Speaking of which, I was shocked to see your wedding announcement in the _Prophet _– well, more disgusted than shocked, if I must be honest."

"No more disgusted than I was when I heard about your affair with the mudblood," retorted Malfoy.

James clenched his fists and tried hard to control his rapidly rising temper. _Keep your cool, _he advised himself, _don't lose it with him. Don't let him bait you._

He knew how risky it was to let your emotions run away with you on the battlefield, but James absolutely hated hearing Lily referred to as a 'mudbood'. It made her sound so insignificant and common, and James knew Lily was anything but a mudblood.

"She has as much talent as half the people Voldemort recruits and probably more than most," said James, gleaning some satisfaction from the look of absolute horror reflected in Malfoy's eyes. "Yes, I do speak Voldemort's name. I, unlike you, find it incredibly stupid to cower to a _name_."

"A name of the most powerful wizard in the history of time," grunted Malfoy. "You should really learn to respect that fact, Potter."

"I will never respect anything about that filthy, murderous arsehole. He lost my respect when I saw him kill that toddler in cold blood right before her parents' eyes."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes warningly. "That child was the spawn of a mudblood, it deserved to die. It would only have grown into yet another problematic pest of a witch, unfit to even bear that title."

"So I suppose that's the excuse he gave when he killed that infant the other night, and when he unjustly ended the life of those twenty-nine third years in Hogsmeade? What about when he murdered Frank Longbottom's parents? They were pureblood! And Alice's baby girl – she was pureblood too, and he just waved his wand at her as though she were a fly in his path that needed to be terminated. Malfoy, don't you get it? Voldemort delights in death, and someday he is going to delight himself with yours. I just hope I'm there to watch."

"You worthless blood traitor!" Malfoy shouted angrily, pulling his wand just as James pulled his. "You WILL NOT insult my Master in that way! I am one of his most trusted confidantes! He will never kill me."

"Just you wait and see, Malfoy." The two began exchanging curses, all of Malfoy's fatally harmful though James's were meant only to cause temporary damage. James soon found and worked to exploit Malfoy's weakness: his speed, and his arrogance. Malfoy considered himself to be such a wonderful spell-master that he often felt he did not need to move out of the way of James's curses, preferring instead to simply put up a shield charm. Unfortunately for him, his shield charms were weak and only blocked the jinxes and hexes on occasion. Malfoy would try to dodge, but his reflexes were pitifully slow.

James relied on a mixture of both physical dodging and magical defense, and both seemed to work equally well for him. It was obvious that Malfoy's annoyance was growing with each spell that James managed to successfully block.

And then he heard it. Horrible, tormented screams pierced the air, much louder (or so it seemed to James) than the noise the rest of the battle was engendering. He knew that voice.

It was Lily.

He lowered his defenses for a moment as his concentration wavered and saw his beloved lying helplessly on the ground, contorted in pain. A Death Eater stood above her, wand drawn. The knot of pain and fear in his stomach grew almost unbearable, watching Lily scream for help.

Malfoy pressed his advantage. With James's momentary lack of focus, he managed to slip a spell through the weakened shield charm. It hit James with stunning force, and the black-haired, bespectacled Potter let out a hiss of pain as blood spurted from the newly-acquired cut on his neck and flowed on to his robes.

James could still hear Lily yelling, pleading with him, and it took all of his self-control not to run to her right then and hex that bloody Death Eater into jelly. Unfortunately, he knew leaving the fight now would only provide Malfoy and Lily's torturer with the opportunity to team up against himself and Lily. Though Lily and James could take them separately with ease, it would be much harder with the redhead unconscious and James injured. No, it would be a much more reasonable plan to take out Malfoy before moving on to help Lily.

Realizing the importance of time and the lack of it, James resolved on hammering the Death Eater with all he had at once. Malfoy seemed taken aback by James's new strategy and was unable to block the repetitive curses, fired one right after the other, until finally Malfoy fell victim to their might.

With Malfoy on the ground, James raced over to Narcissa and Lily. He had eyes for no one's conflicts but theirs, even though he could see and hear many others suffering Lily's same fate.

"Looks like your boyfriend has finally shown up," said Narcissa, lifting the curse for a moment. Lily groaned and rolled onto her back, still making a valiant attempt at sitting up. James knelt beside her, though his wand was trained on Narcissa.

"Are you alright, love?" he asked Lily gently, feeling his heart break into a million pieces at Lily's hopeless, pained, grunted reply. "Everything's going to be fine," he reassured her. "You'll be fine once we get you home."

He slowly rose to his feet and locked eyes with Narcissa. They both had their wands drawn in preparation of another duel.

"Wow!" exclaimed Narcissa in a mockingly impressed voice. "Who did that to your neck? I want to thank them."

James grinned gravely. "Your husband," he answered, as Narcissa burst out in laughter. "But that's all he managed to do. You'd ought to see the scars he'll have from his encounter with me. Do you seem him over there? He's the bloke lying completely out of it on the ground. Ooh, he just got stepped on . . ."

Narcissa whirled around in search of her husband, and James seized his chance. Once Narcissa was sufficiently bound with invisible ropes and unconscious, James lifted Lily in his arms, stroking her damp auburn hair tenderly.

"There you go, love. Just wait, everything will be fine. We've got them."

**Whether I am up or down or in or out or just plain overhead**

**Instead it feels like it is impossible to fly**

**Abut with you I can spread my wings**

**To see me over everything that life may send me**

**When I am hoping it won't pass me by**

"How is she doing?"

The healer rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Mr. Potter," he sighed, "she is going to be just fine. She's still suffering from trauma and a bit of a back problem, but other than that, Miss Evans is expected to be making a full recovery."

James nodded, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Is she still out of it?"

"Yes, she is still 'out of it'."

"When do you think she'll be waking up?"

"I estimate it to be sometime this week," said the healer soothingly. "However, I am not ruling out the possibility that I could be wrong: she may have a concussion or some other serious complication. In which case, matters could be even more confusing."

"And you can't tell if she has a concussion now?" snapped James angrily; these healers were so _useless _sometimes! "Aren't you supposed to be, like, trained for this type of thing?"

"I am trained for this type of thing," the healer countered hotly, "along with the rest of the St. Mungo's staff. Mr. Potter, for your own health, I am going to have to ask you to leave. You've been here for three days straight already, and it's starting to show in your appearance and your attitude. Come on, I'll floo you as soon as she wakes."

James shook his head miserably. "No," he said quietly. "I don't care what the hell I look like – she was the only one I ever kept up my appearance for anyway. I'm going to stay here until she opens her eyes again, even if that takes . . . however long it will take." He didn't want to say "years", for that would sound as though he were losing hope. Which, of course, he wasn't – James still firmly believed with every fiber of his being that he would stare into those hypnotic green eyes once again, even if it did mean waiting years.

The healer heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright," he consented reluctantly. "I'll have one of the other healers come up and conjure you a bed and direct you to the showers —"

"That won't be necessary, man," said James. "I'm old enough to do the magic myself, and I'd daresay I'm also talented enough to conjure a bed. And you forget that I've been here three days – I may not look it, but I haven't completely neglected the showers in that time."

"Fine, fine." The healer slumped out of the room, looking disappointed.

James shook his head. What didn't they get? It was partially his fault that Lily had suffered as much as she had – if he had gotten there faster, maybe he could have stopped Narcissa before she had gone too far.

He walked back over to the other side and knelt down beside Lily's hospital bed, running his fingers affectionately through her dark red hair. How he hated seeing her like this . . . Just lying there, eyes closed to the world in an eternal sleep. This wasn't his energetic, hyperactive Lily, the spunky girl he had come to know and love with all his heart. The wasn't her at all.

"The healers say that you're going to be fine," said James to Lily, his voice cracking slightly. "They reckon Narcissa hit you with something other than Crucio, otherwise you would have already woken up."

James swallowed the hard lump in his throat and tried to suppress his tears. "Please wake up, Lils," he whispered. "Please. I hate talking to you and not knowing whether you're hearing me at all, knowing you're not going to respond. Please, please, please open your eyes."

Nothing. No response at all. James closed his eyes and sighed.

"Anyway," he continued, "Sirius, Remus, and Peter were here yesterday. We all played a good game of chess, which – of course – Remus won. And Alice, she and Frank were here the other day. She came in and talking to you for a bit, I don't know if you'll remember it at all. She's mostly gotten over Bethie's death, but Frank told me she still gets sick sometimes when she thinks about it."

Bethie was Frank and Alice's first child, a daughter. She had been only a year old when Voldemort murdered her in an attempt to intimidate her parents into resigning from their posts as Aurors.

"Dumbledore showed up, too, and McGonagall, if you'll believe it. She came and I could tell she was trying not to cry, but she did anyway. See, Lily? Do you see what you're doing to everyone here by not waking up? You're killing us, Lil! You're killing me."

James caressed her cheek affectionately with his fingertips. "You look beautiful, you now," he whispered, "even though you're not exactly feeling great. That battle interrupted a very special night, Lily. Do you know why that night was so special? Oh, of course you don't. Well, I guess I'll tell you now, as you'll probably never – never wake up to hear me say in person." He paused to brush the rebellious tears from his face.

"I was going to ask you to marry me," he stated simply to the unconscious girl. "I had it all planned out. Dumbledore was going to allow me to go back onto the Hogwarts grounds and I was going to take you to where we first kissed – underneath that tree overlooking the grounds and Hogsmeade. I had a picnic all set up and a blanket and everything . . . It would have been amazing. You would have been amazing, anyway."

James, upon realizing that he was once again getting carried away with his feelings and talking to someone who could not have heard him in the first place, stood up and stretched his sore muscles. He retreated to the bathroom, where he had magically installed a shower, and quickly doused himself in icy cold water, a wake-up call that he desperately needed. Once he had finished and redressed, he shaved the three-day accumulation of stubble from his chin. Lily hated men with facial hair, or so she had told him when he jokingly confessed to her his secret ambition to grow a French handlebar mustache.

He left the bathroom and settled down into a chair beside Lily's bed, covering her small hand with his large one. With that, he drifted off to sleep.

**And as float along this ocean**

**I can feel you like a notion that I hope will never leave**

James stirred from his restful sleep at the sound of shuffling. He glanced around the room to find the source of the noise and was confronted by an awakening Lily, moving her blankets around as she stretched her back.

"Damn that hurts," she mumbled to herself.

James was almost crying in relief. "It should," he said. "You got hit with some pretty nasty curses."

Lily peeked her eyes open cautiously. "James?" she asked, her bright, lucid eyes hopeful. "James, am I still dreaming, or are you real this time?"

Jams laughed. "I'm fairly sure this is real. Otherwise, we've both been having the same dream for the past three days."

"I've been out for four days?" Lily looked downright mortified. "James! Do you have any idea how much work I've missed because of this? I – Hang on. Where are we? This isn't home."

"We're at St. Mungo's," explained James softly. "Narcissa Malfoy hit you with Crucio a few dozen times, and you weren't feeling too wonderful because of it."

"And how long – how long have I been out? Three days?"

"Yes."

Lily sighed. "Damn," she cursed again. She glanced up at him, surveying his face with curious emerald eyes. "What are you doing here, then? Were you injured too? Are you okay?"

James shook his head. "Nah, I'm fine. I got out with only a few scrapes and bruises. I've been waiting for you to wake up."

"You stayed here three days, just for me?" Lily asked incredulously. "James, honestly, you didn't have to . . ."

"Lily, I wanted to."

James stared into her flawless, clear face, committing each feature to memory. Her beautiful, fiery hiar that almost perfectly reflected her unpredictable, volatile temper. And those eyes, those loving, adoring, though sometimes enigmatic, eyes.

He made a split-second decision to do something extremely brash in that moment. He knew Lily would probably never forgive him – let alone agree to anything he might mention. But, having almost lost her once before, James could not stand the thought of either of them dying before he had a chance to share his life with her, or at least not before he had a chance to get his intentions out in the open.

James rummaged through the pocket of his jeans and pulled it out, slowly, carefully, a little green velvet box. _She's going to kill me _was the last thought that ran through his head before James knelt down on one knee before a stunned Lily.

He was going to do it. He going to propose marriage in a St. Mungo's hospital to a girl who had only moments before recovered from an illness that had left her unconscious for three days. She was dressed in a hospital gown, and he was still in his pajamas (boxer shorts and a t-shirt), having changed into them after showering.

It wasn't exactly the romantic setting he had planned, but it would have to do. _True love has no boundaries._

James snapped the box open to reveal a gold band, set with a diamond nestled in between two emeralds. Lily gasped in shock as she realized what he was about to do.

"Lily Evans,"started James, "you have made my life worthwhile. When I'm around you, I can't even describe what I begin to feel. It's like I'm finally complete, like I'm in absolute bliss. You complete me. You, and only you, are the only one who has ever or will ever have that effect on me. And while you were lying there . . . when I almost lost you . . . I realized the most important thing in my life has always, and will always, be you. I love you."

"I love you, too," Lily whispered.

James grinned. "Then, here goes: Lily Evans, will you consider marrying me?"

Lily's radiant smile lit up the entire room. A sense of security finally blanketed her, knowing, for the first time in her life, that everything would be okay as long as they were together.

**Cause when I look to the sky something tells me you're here with me**

**And you make everything alright**

**And when I feel like I'm lost something tells me you're here with me**

**And I can always find my way when you are here**

**A.N. **– What did you think? Horrible? Good? In between? REVIEW!


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